


Anything You Can Do

by Mouse9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Day Four, Galentine's Day, Gen, Mary is alive dammit, Molly Hooper Appreciation, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 20:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: What started out as a Galentine's Night out, ended up in a  competition.





	Anything You Can Do

 

“What are you doing?”

Molly frowned at the questions as she put down Toby’s food bowl.  The tabby swirled around her legs before heading straight for his food bowl and diving in face first. 

“Feeding Toby, why?”

“Get dressed.  And open your front door, I’m at it.”

“Wha…”  She crossed the kitchen into the sitting room and opened the door to her flat.  Mary stood on the other side dressed in trousers and a low-cut blouse holding a bottle of wine in one hand and her phone in the other.  Around her neck were about fifty strings of red beads.  She walked past Molly, who still had the mobile to her ear, and headed towards her room. 

“Mary!”  Putting the mobile back into her pocket, she followed the women into her room.  Mary was already at the closet, bottle of wine tossed on the bed, digging through the clothes.  “What are you doing?  What’s going on?”

“Galentine’s Day, baby!  John took Rosie, told me to get out and have some fun.  So, we’re going out, get pissed and have some fun.  He even rented us a driver.”  She pulled out a red dress and after a studied look, put it back.  “I’m not sure he actually rented it or talked either Sherlock or Mycroft into paying for it, but it’s ours for the night and I plan on taking advantage of it, aha!”  

She pulled out a pair of black trousers and a dressy silver sleeveless top Meena had bought for her years ago and she’d thought she had buried further into her closet to never see the light of day.  

“Put these on.”

Molly barely caught the outfit before Mary was into her lingerie drawer. 

“I know you Molly Hooper,” Mary said as she rooted through the knickers.  “You’re wearing something plain and serviceable.  Ha!”  She held up a matching blue bra and thong set and grinned.  Molly blushed. 

“This shade of blue looks familiar.”  The woman said with a cheeky grin.  She waved towards Molly, who was still standing there not quite sure what was happening.  “Strip Hooper, we have the entire night and it’s ticking away.”

“Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Nope.”

Shrugging, Molly tossed the clothes on the bed and began to strip.

 

* * *

 

 

She felt uncomfortable in these clothes.  The trousers were a bit too snug on her, which was why they were in the back of the closet, waiting for her bi-annual tossing of anything she couldn’t wear anymore.  The top she should have binned years ago.  It was lower than she normally wore, and Mary wouldn’t let her bring a jumper, so her arms and chest were bare.  She hadn’t been this exposed in public since that horrid Christmas Party.

The car took them to the first night club and Mary pulled Molly through the door.  They were hit by a wall of loud music and laughter when they stepped in.  It seemed as if every woman in London had gone out tonight.   There were a few men, prowling around the perimeter of the dance floor and in groups at the bar, but the majority of the patrons tonight were women.   Mary pulled her to the bar and leaned over, giving the barkeep a wide grin.  The man behind the bar, grinned in response. 

“Evening ladies, what are you having?”

“Two pints of ale and two shots of your best whisky.”

As the man went off to fill their order, Molly giggled. 

“What are you giggling about?”  Mary asked, leaning her side against to bar.  “You haven’t had anything to drink yet.”

“John’s bachelor party.”  Molly answered, leaned towards Mary so she could be heard.  “Sherlock asked me to calculate the correct amount of alcohol intake to keep them in the sweet spot all evening.  Something went wrong, and they ended up in the drunk tank.”

Mary groaned, giving the barkeep a quick nod as he brought their drinks.  “I heard about that.”

“Running a tab?”  the barkeep asked.  Mary handed over her card and he nodded.  

“Grab us a table.”  She said.  Molly nodded, picking up her drinks and walking off.  She found a table a little away from the dance floor and sat down.  Mary followed a moment later and took a seat next to her. 

“I’m glad we got here early,” she said.  “It’s going to be hell later in the evening. How long did the boys last?”

“Oh.  Mrs. Hudson said she found them both drunk on the front steps around half nine.”

Mary cackles.  “John skewed the measurements.  He told me he added shots into a couple of the drinks not expecting Sherlock to have calculated the sweet spot.”  She raised her shot glass “Or rather, you.  So, Cheers, Molly Hooper.  Let’s show the boys we can last longer than half nine.”

Grinning, Molly lifted her shot glass and with a clink, threw back the shot.  The whiskey burned down her throat and she coughed.  Mary shook her head and slammed the glass upside down onto the table and let out an exclamation that sounded a bit like Russian.

“Christ, that’s shit whiskey.  We’re going for vodka shots next.”

 

 

* * *

 

The driver had to be one of Mycroft’s, Molly decided.  The man had not let them out of his sight at all that night.  The minute they stepped out of a club, or stumbled, later in the evening, he was right there, with the door open waiting for them to direct him to the next place they wanted.  The forth pub, Mary shook her head at his offer, almost throwing herself off balance. 

“We’re gonna walk down the way, Marco.” 

Molly tugged on her arm, glad she insisted on flats instead of heels tonight, she was already a bit wobbly. 

“Is his name Marco?  Did we ask?”  she peered at the man standing beside the car.  “We’re terribly rude, what is your name?”

The driver’s lip quirked slightly.  “Greg, Doctor Hooper.”

“Oh, how lovely!”  Molly exclaimed, tugging on Mary’s arm again, almost knocking the woman off balance.  “Mary, we’ve our own Greg, isn’t that lovely?”

“You think Lestrade’ll be jealous?”  Mary asked skeptically.  She waved a hand in the air and grabbed Molly’s left hand with her other.  “Never mind, not important.  Greg, we’re walking to the next club.  Need the fresh air.”

“One moment.”  Greg locked the door to the car and followed them down the block. Molly kept turning around to talk to him, tumbling as Mary pulled her along. 

“Do you dance Greg?  You should come in with us.”

“Molly, it’s Galantine’s Day, not Galantine and random bloke’s day.”

“Don’t be mean.  Ignore Mary,” Molly said.  “John doesn’t let her out nearly enough.  He gets all the fun running around London and risking his life and poor Mary is stuck at home.”  She gasped and spun back around to Mary.  “Oh, I don’t mean that you hate it, I mean, how could you, Rosie is a dear, but I’m sure you’d like to run around London too.”

Mary laughed.  “I do love Rosie, but yeah, I’d love to be out with adults every occasionally.  Which is why we’re out and John’s at home with the baby.”

They reached the club doors, paid the cover and stepped in. 

This club was busier, the music loud and the dance floor almost shoulder to shoulder.  Molly shouldered her way to the bar and hopped up on it, leaning her body on her folded arms leaning heavy against the wood. 

“What time is it?”  she asked the bar keep, almost shouting to be heard over the music.  The man checked his watch. 

“Near eleven.”  He answered. 

Molly turned to Mary behind her, caging her against the bar.  “We made it Mary!  A full hour after the boys!”  She turned back to the now amused bar keep.  “Vodka.”  she announced holding up two fingers. “Double shots and two pints of ale.”

“Coming up.  You running a tab?”

“Yes.”  Mary handed over a card.  Molly turned so she was facing Mary. 

“Not sure if we’re going to find a seat here.” 

“We can stay here until one opens up.”  Mary said.  The barkeep brought back their drinks and Mary reached past to pick up the two shots, handing one to Molly.  “To not being the lightweights.”

Molly raised her own drink, “Cheers!  Oh!”  She pulled out her mobile and opened the camera turning around so both she and Mary were facing the camera.  “Say winners!”  she chirped, and she and Mary grinned with lifted shot glasses as Molly snapped the picture.  They took the shot and Molly typed something onto her phone and hit send. 

“What did you do?”  she asked.  Molly grinned up at her lifting the mobile, so Mary could see.  Mary sputtered out a laugh. 

“Did you just drunk text Greg, John and Sherlock?”

“Yep.”

“My girl!”  Mary cheered.  She leaned around Molly and slapped the bar.  “Barkeep, two more shots.”

 

* * *

 

 

Greg was leaning against the car of the final pub looking at his phone.  It was close to closing time, so his next stop would be to drop the women off at their prospective homes and go home.  He heard the noise before he saw two bobbies run into the bar.  Pocketing his mobile, he ran towards the bar, pushing past the crowd of people just in time to see a bloodied Molly Hooper land a punch on a brunette woman who stumbled backwards, falling over a table.  Mary, shirt ripped, nose bloodied, grabbed Molly by the waist and pulled her backwards as group of women swarmed the table.  Greg pushed past three people trying to leave the pub and Mary spotted him. 

“Greg!”  She shouted over Molly’s yelling.  She handed the smaller women to him as he reached her. 

“Time to go.”  She said.  He nodded and moved back towards the entrance, picking up the still shouting pathologist and carrying her out of the pub, Mary close behind.  He shouldered past a Bobbie rushing in and stepped out into the night.

“Doors unlocked.”  He said.  Mary rushed over, tottering slightly and opened the door.  Greg shoved Molly in and Mary followed laughing the entire way.  Molly crawled over Mary, trying to reach the door. 

“You stupid cow!”  she screamed out the open window.  “My taxidermy mouse is more real than your tits!”

“Drive!”  Mary yelled.  Greg put the car into drive and sped off before anyone could come out and get them.

Molly finally fell back in her seat, pouting.  Mary laughed loudly. 

“Best night out ever.”  She announced and then climbed up towards the front seat.  “Greg.  Just take us back to my flat.  Molly’s gonna spend the night there.”

“Of course.”  He said.  “What the hell happened?”

Mary leaned back in her seat, glancing fondly at her friend, who had her phone out and was typing something, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth. 

“Some cow decided to say something about Sherlock in front of Molly.”

“Slag,” Molly muttered crossly, still typing.  Mary grinned.

“She’d pretty damn easy going on pretty much everything.”  Mary told Greg.  “But never slag off about Sherlock Holmes in front of her.  She may be small, but Molly Hooper can pack one hell of a punch.”


End file.
